Obliviate
by magicalme32
Summary: If Harry wasn't to die, if Voldemort was defeated, if all that was wanted to be accomplished was… and Harry wanted to obliviate everything from his memory, what would happen.
1. To Continue Living

Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K.Rowling's.

**Ch1: To Continue Living**

'I don't want to live.'

Life isn't worth it. Nothing that is happening to me is worth it. I feel dead and hurt, but I walk around completely healthy.

So, why didn't they live?

_Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, together in death._

_Sirius Black, misunderstood until the end._

_Remus Lupin, where a strong heart defeated the soul._

…

and on

….

And on

…

and on.

And, now I'm sick of it. I'm sick down to my core. A sickness Madam Pomphrey failed to heal. I can't take it. No longer, do I want to be the Boy Who Lived. Who helped the whole Wizarding world. Where at every corner I turn, people know my name, shake my hand, congratulate me.

I don't want to know why I have this filthy scar, which penetrates to my soul. I'm cursed; everything is gone. I would have rather died an anyone, than stay alive right now as a hero.

'Exuse me, Harry.'

I was sitting in Dumbledore's office in Hogwarts, like old times, watching him from across his messy desk. I looked up into his ever twinkling eyes and repeated, 'I don't want to live.'

'Now, Harry,' said Dumbledore soothingly, 'You can't possibly mean that. Look at all the good you've done. Many people love you; you can't just want to die.'

'There is nothing left for me anymore, Dumbledore,' I said quietly, 'everything I ever wanted, ever expected,' I looked away from those blue eyes, 'from a magical world was never left for me.'

'Harry Potter, you are famous,' said Dumbledore wisely, 'you could go anywhere you would want to go. Any job would accept you, just because of what you have done. How you have helped us all.'

'Have I helped?' I asked, steering my tearful eyes to Dumbledore's clear one's. 'If I have, I don't care. I lost my heart with those I love. And, they,' I said angrily,' are buried in mud. Killed brutally… just…' I turned my head away again, 'I don't want to remember… anything, ever again…I don't want to know about anything.'

'Harry,' said Dumbledore, with slight surprise in his eyes, 'you cannot be serious…'

'I am,' I nearly shouted; my anger vibrated about the room, knocking an ornament off Dumbledore's desk. 'I don't want to know about anything. I don't want these memories and nightmares of Cedric, and Hermione's cry and….' I paused fighting back tears, 'to always haunt me. I want to forget everything.

I want to forget Cedric, the TriWizard Tournament. I want to forget those Death Eaters, the awful mark that killed Snape in the end. I don't want to remember giants and dementors, werewolves, unicorns…

I don't want to remember that I could have been sorted into Slytherin, that I went to Gryffindor. I want to forget everything. Hogwarts, my wand, wizards and witches, and even you Professor, even you…'

I dropped my head and buried my face in my hands. Slowly, I looked back up to Dumbledore's no longer twinkling eyes. 'I thought magic could heal all wounds and solve all problems, and make the world a beautiful place. But, instead,' my green eyes flashed against the light, 'it gave me a scar and cut me a wound that is just too deep to heal.'

Looking up into Dumbledore's face I hoped against hope that he who knew everything and so much more than the ordinary, would understand how I felt.

'As you wish my dear boy,' he said, tears glittering in his eyes, 'as you wish.'

'Ladies and gentlemen, we have you gathered here today by the request of _the_ Savior Harry Potter.'

A sickeningly loud applause followed with lots of whistling and happy words. I sat upon the stage, looking down at the audience of important witches and wizards all seated happily, without a notion of what was about to happen.

'Harry Potter,' Ludo Bagman announced, then gestured towards me. But, I pointed towards Dumbledore, feeling unusually relaxed in my chair. 'Would like Albus Dumbledore to say a few words.'

Professor Dumbledore stood up slowly, and for once I truly realized how old he really was. For all his greatness he was really 150 or so years old. I pondered upon this as he spoke to the audience. I saw their reactions… the gasps… glances my way…

But, I didn't care.

The aching inside me couldn't hold anymore feeling.

'No, you can't!' shouted the familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley, 'he's the only boy I have left!'

'You can't destroy him, he's our savior!'

…various protests…

'This is what Mr. Potter wants, my fellow wizards, and if you truly love him,' at this his voice hitched, 'you will let him decide what he wants.'

Then the whole room was filled with a loud silence.

I stood up and walked to the front of the stage. 'What I want is to forget about all this… the good and the bad. I want to forget my friends who are no longer there for me. I want to forget… those I killed. I want to forget the awful evil that was in this world. I even want to forget magic, just…just obliviate my memory.'

The audience was silently stricken by my short speech. Soon, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around to face Dumbledore.

'You all heard him,' he announced, since Bagman was at loss of words for the first time in his life, 'it's time.'

'We'll miss you Harry,' he said looking towards me. He took my hand in a weak shake, then quickly pulled me into a strong hug. Letting go, he took my wand.

The audience gasped and I heard someone cry as he took out his own. Soon, the dark brown wood was level with my forehead.

I closed my eyes and waited for the magic to finish what it started. I waited, but nothing happened.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Dumbledore. The man had tears streaming freely down his face as he said slowly but loudly,

'Goodbye, Harry James Potter.'

'please don't…mr. potter…don't do it…'

'Obliviate!'

I closed my eyes tightly, as I felt a strong wind pick me up and throw me back. And, I fell

into

darkness.

'Wake up, wake up Harry…

Harry… come on,'

I groaned as I felt a small push, and heard slight laughter. Light, quiet happy laughter.

'Anna,' I said, yawning, 'not now.'

'You'll be late, again,' said the dirty blonde, 'You know what you're boss is like, come on sleepy head,' she grinned and pulled me out of bed.

'Ok, ok,' I said, walking to the bathroom. I dressed, then walked out, shirt still unbuttoned. 'Uh, Anne, do you know where my tie is?'

'Which one?' she asked, shouting from the kitchen in our apartment.

'That one, you know, the one that's red with the light gold streaks,' I said, walking around the room. I walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

'Hey Tom,' I called to the little boy sitting on the kitchen table. Dropping his spoon in his cereal, he jumped up and came running to his father.

'Dad! Dad!' the messy black haired boy jumped up and down. 'Can I come to work with you today! Please, please, please!'

'Not today, Tom, you've got school, remember?' I said, looking down at the pouting boy. But, there was something wrong with the pout; it seemed the mischievous spark in his eyes was hiding something.

'Will you let me come, if I tell you where your tie is?' he asked cheekily, grinning a very toothy grin.

'Hmm…' I put on one of my thoughtful faces, 'sure.'

'Cool,' he cried and ran out of the room to get my tie.

'Harry,' Anne said, 'you can't just let him skip school. His principal takes summer school very seriously.'

'What's one day of school? Anyways, I'll teach him something at work,' I said grabbing my coat and the cup of tea on the table.

'See ya, Mum,' Tom cried, racing after me down the stairs holding the red tie like a banner.

Walking out the door of the apartment building, with Tom I knelt down and picked up a newspaper. We walked down the street of busy London and waited to cross the street. The light turned red and we crossed as a line of cars stopped.

Today looked like it was going to be good weather, I thought looking up into the cloudless blue sky. What a great day.

I got to the other side of the street and strolled down a few more blocks before making it to work.

'Potter!' came the shout as I entered my office. Leaving Tom to the computer to play games, I walked into my boss's office.

'I'm not late this time,' I said, pointing towards the wooden clock on the fat man's wall.

'No, you're just in time… with a child?!' said the boss.

'Just a day,' I said sincerely, 'he's mature, and won't do any damage…'

Suddenly, a loud beeping noise started erupting from my office. I ran back into the room and found Tom staring at the computer in horror. 'It wasn't me,' he cried.

Getting the situation under control, I walked slowly to the boss's office. 'Sorry, about that,' I said, looking downwards and pushing my glasses up my nose. 'How about, I go down and get some coffee? Starbucks is just a block away.'

'Yes,' the boss sighed, 'you do that. And tell your son not to cause any more trouble.'

Exiting the building, I walked down an alley. Suddenly, I bumped into someone and heard books fall. I turned around and picked up the books and handed it to an older woman. Quickly, she held them and barely glanced at me with a nod. All of a sudden, she did a double take and dropped all her books again. 'Mrs…' I questioned, looking down at the books.

She didn't move, so I picked up the books to hand to her again, but her eyes were riveted to my scar. 'Oh, it's nothing,' I said, pushing back the messy hair, 'just a car accident.'

The woman looked me in the eyes, and I noticed she was wearing long robes and had her hair tied back in a tight bun. 'My boy,' she said, tears in her eyes as her hand came up to touch my cheek, 'oh, my boy.'

'It's nothing maam,' I said, again. I handed her her books, and caught the cover

of one. It said something like '_Transfiguration_.'

'What kind of book is that, maam,' I asked, as she looked down at the book.

Quickly, she hid the cover, then answered in a quiet tone, 'Nothing, my boy… just…just go on, be…happy.' She looked at me again, then her hand left my cheek and she walked away very quickly.

I picked up three cups of coffee, after all, it was time that Tom had his first coffee. I grinned happily at the thought. Walking back through the same alleyway, I noticed an unusual store that seemed all boarded up. It had been there for the past twelve years. Maybe before, but after the accident I couldn't remember.

The only thing I had left from the accident was my check book and a wallet with my name and identity in it.

Suddenly, I was jerked out of my thoughts, by the commotion of a fight up ahead.

A child's voice, 'It's my snake!'

Tom's voice, 'I just wanted to play with it!'

I started running. Why had Tom come out of the office?

Then a man's voice, 'Don't touch him. Harry, don't talk to the muggle.' I arrived at the scene to see a pale blonde man standing beside a boy -probably his son- who had dirty blonde hair. The man was also holding a coffee in his hand. Tom was looking at something in the other boy's hands.

'Boy,' the man continued, '_where_ are your parents? Don't just go and wander mindlessly.'

'He's my son, thank you very much,' I said sharply, putting my hand on Tom's shoulder, holding the coffee in the other hand.

Suddenly, the pale blonde man looked at me quickly. His whole body seemed to jerk, and he gasped, 'Oh Merlin,' as his coffee spilled on the floor. His gray eyes widened and stared at me. His eyes looked back and forth between my own green eyes. Then he looked up at my scar and at my black hair.

'You're his… he's your…' he gestured to Tom. It seemed even his son was in shock as he also looked at me.

'Yes, this is my son, Tom,' I said, with steel in my tone.

'This is my son, Harry,' he gestured to his son, who was still quiet with shock. 'Exuse my…,' he paused, gaping , 'his…' he pointed to his son, 'and… and…thank you.'

I was about to say something, when he continued, 'Thank you Potter, thank you.'

And, with that, he turned around and walked away.

'Dad, how did the man know your name?' Tom asked, taking a coffee from the set I was holding.

'I have absolutely no idea,' I said, watching the man's back. His blonde hair reflected the light so stunningly.

Suddenly, for the first time in my life, since the accident, I felt a memory crawling in the back of my mind. A memory of the past. I tried to hold onto it, but once my conscious mind seemed to realize it was there, the memory slid away.

'I can't remember,' I said.

'Dad,' said Tom, in a slightly scared tone, 'uh, I sorta did something to your computer… again,' he looked at me, then grinned widely.

'Oh, no,' I said, then went upstairs to fix the mess.

And think of the one I had forgotten.

That man's son was named Harry.

And, just before that women seemed to know me as well.

Maybe, it was from before the accident.

Maybe, I should find out about who Harry Potter really is.

**Authors Note**: Well, do you think I should continue… I have some good ideas, but I'll only continue if people will actually read it.


	2. Do you Remember?

Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K.Rowling's.

**Ch2: Do you Remember?**

'Dad, I really don't know what happened!' pleaded Tom as we raced up the stairs to the office.

Still holding the coffee, I dashed into the room and stared at the computer, which was emitting violent red sparks and smoking wildly.

'What did you do!' I asked Tom, confused and angry. 'This computer is brand new!'

'Uh… I was just sorta angry…,' Tom wrung his hands, 'I mean the game was messing up and…'

'You kicked it, didn't you?' I asked angrily.

'No,' said Tom defiantly, looking at me, 'it just did that.' And he pointed at the smoke and sparks.

'It's ruined, there's no way it can possibly be fixed!' I touched the computer, but pulled my hand back quickly as my finger was scorched. Looking at Tom, I said, 'The boss isn't going to be happy with this.'

Slowly, I walked into my boss's office. I tried to smile as I handed him his coffee, but immediately he realized something was wrong. 'What happened?' he asked, nose pointing sharply in the air.

'Tom…' I looked away from his narrowed eyes, 'my son was just playing a computer game and the computer malfunctioned.'

'What happened, **exactly**?'

'It's… Oh bloody hell, emitting sparks and large amounts of smoke,' I finished quickly.

The boss slammed his coffee on his desk and stood up. 'You mean, our brand new computer is broken!' and with that, he ran out of the room as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

Racing after him, I nearly crashed into him as he stopped at the door of my office.

'So, the computer malfunctioned?' he said slowly and quietly.

'I'm really sorry, sir…' I said looking away from my office, with my head bent. I rubbed on my scorched finger.

'And, it's _emitting sparks and large amounts of smoke_, eh?' he said, but there was something very different about his voice.

'I'm sure you can see it, sir,' I said, turning around. But, at what I saw, I froze.

The computer was fine!

'I see nothing wrong, Mr. Potter,' he said slowly.

Quickly, I ran past my boss and Tom to the computer. I touched it gently and found it's temperature completely normal.

'But, it was…' I stuttered, 'it was heating up, I even scorched my finger!' I held up my palm for my boss to see.

'You scorched your finger with your coffee, Potter. Enough with these jokes. I would prefer for you to work on your job,' he said sharply with narrowed eyes.

'Sir, I swear,' I said sincerely, 'the computer was…'

'Heating up,' said my boss sarcastically, 'emitting _large, dangerous sparks_!' He laughed, then looked at me, 'If that's true,' he challenged, 'then how come it's fine now?'

'I don't know…' I said slowly, 'It's as if… as if…it was magic.'

The boss walked closely to me and said slowly and clearly,

**'There's no such thing as magic!'**

And with that, he walked away, slamming my office door shut amidst the snickers and laughter of my co-workers.

But, something remained. Those words… magic…seemed so familiar… but I couldn't get a hold on it. It was like smoke, you think you've got it in your hands, but when you open them, nothing's there.

'Now, what did you do?' I asked Tom with a sigh.

'I don't know; I wanted it to fix, so I fixed it,' he said with a wide grin, spinning on my office chair.

With a laugh, I said, 'Get up, you troublemaker,' and I sat on the chair in his stead.

'Like father, like son,' he said cheekily, as we both took a sip of coffee.

The day passed without anymore significant events, though my boss did keep an extra eye on Tom and I.

We walked home and up the stairs to our apartment. Tom took my key, opened the door and bounded inside.

'Harry, Tom! You guys home?' called Anna from inside somewhere.

'Yep,' said Tom, 'and I'm hungry! Dad didn't give me anything to eat!' he called out pitifully.

I looked at my son. Traitor! I thought childishly; I had just bought him a sandwich on the way home. Anna put some food in the microwave then followed me into our room.

'Harry,' she said quietly, 'a letter came for Tom today.'

'Oh no, it's not from the principal of his school, is it?' I asked, worried.

'No,' she said, looking at me reassured, 'But, it's not from someone we know. I think that we should open it first.' And with that, she handed me the letter.

It was an averaged sized letter, and written on the front in spiraly ink was,

'_To: Tom Harry Potter_

_In the last room at the end of the hallway,_

_Of apartment 271_

_Building 11_

_King's Cross St._

_London_

'The last room at the end of the hallway,' I quoted curiously, 'How'd they know that?' I turned the letter over, and saw a crest, with a lion, snake, badger, and eagle all around the letter H.

Suddenly, I felt that same remembering feeling I felt earlier. There was something about this letter, about the way it felt in my hands. About the crest, the lion… it seemed so vaguely familiar.

'There's something about this letter,' I whispered, turning it over again. 'Its…'

'Very weird, I know,' said Anna,' so, should we open it?'

'But,' I said,' it's Tom's letter.' For some reason, I found it very wrong to take anyone's letter away from them, especially this one. 'He should open it.'

And before anyone could stop me, I walked out of our room and to the table where Tom was eating spaghetti. 'Here, Tom,' I said, 'this letter came for you, today.'

'Really?' he asked, licking his lips clean of red sauce and grabbing the letter. Quickly, he ripped the top open and took out a piece of parchment.

He read:

_You have been accepted into Hogwarts, _

_School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

Suddenly, I stopped hearing what Tom was reading, something else was going through my head…

_I was in a dark room… no, a dark house and it was raining… there was a storm going on outside, and I was on a small island off the coast of England._

And… and… the memory was sliding away…NO, he thought forcefully, not again… let me remember.

_A large man, a giant… and a fat boy was eating his birthday cake. Then…_

'This is a joke, isn't it,' said Anna suddenly, eyebrows raised.

'Mum, it's true!' shouted Tom, standing in his seat, still clutching the letter.

'Oh please, you think I haven't learned **at all** from living with two tricksters?' she said, looking at Tom and I, 'Do you think I'm stupid? Of course there is no such thing as magic and witches,' she was waving her arms around, 'and magic schools, oh please. Harry, great joke, really… but, you still didn't get me fooled.' She looked at me sadly.

'I never made this,' I said, looking at Anne seriously, 'I didn't send this letter.'

'Then who?' she said, her beautiful face looking at me skeptically, 'A wizard, or- no,' she picked up the letter and read with sarcasm dripping from her voice, 'the staff of _Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_?'

'Yes! Yes!' shouted Tom, jumping up and down.

'I'm not sending him off to some boarding school I've never heard of…'

'No! No!'

'and if you cared for him, Harry-'

'I do care for him Annabel-'

'you wouldn't send him.'

Silence filled the kitchen where the shouting of three people just took place.

I looked into the blue eyes of my wife and found them lit with tears. I saw her heart through her eyes; she didn't want Tom to go off to an unknown and probably unreal school. Usually, I would agree with her, but something was very weird and something was making me think that this was all very real.

The doorbell rang, shattering the strong emotions. Anna turned around and said, 'You get it Harry,' and she walked off to our room.

I walked to the door slowly, thinking: Maybe I should listen to her, she's usually right. With a tug, I pulled the door open. I raised my eyebrows at what I saw.

It was the women I had bumped into earlier, who was carrying all the heavy books. 'Hello, Mr. Potter,' she said coolly, looking into my eyes.

I looked up at the woman. She seemed rather angry that she was here, like it wasn't her choice, and if it was, she definitely wouldn't have come. 'Yes?'

'I am here to discuss the admission of your son, Tom Harry Potter, into Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' With that said, she entered the apartment and found a chair to sit on.

'So,' I said, after shutting the door, 'You're the one who sent the letter?'

'No, not me,' this seemed to be the thing that upset her, 'the Headmaster of Hogwarts sent it, Albus Dumbledore.' She looked up at me from her seat on the chair, 'Please gather your family, I must say this before you all.'

I sat down and called to Tom, who was peeking at me from behind the kitchen table, 'Call your Mum and come sit here, Tom.'

As he scrabbled off quickly into my bedroom, I turned to the woman. I looked at her and tried to figure out what could possibly be happening. Soon, Tom and Anne had come into the room.

Annabel looked at me, wondering why I had let in a woman we didn't know. I gave her a look telling her it wasn't my choice. Then, she turned to the anonymous woman. 'Yes?'

'Hello, Mrs. Potter, I have come to discuss the admission of your son, Tom Potter, into Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'

'Really?' said Anne, giving the woman a sarcastic look, 'What is your name?'

'I am Minerva McGonagall, and you?' the woman said politely.

'Oh, is that so? Well, I am Annabel Potter,' said Anne, as Tom listened closely, 'And, so you… work at this school of magic?'

'Yes, I am the Transfiguration teacher and the Headmaster's assistant. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I must tell you about the school.

Hogwarts is a boarding school of magic, which houses students of years 11-17, or Year 1 through Year 7. Upon arriving at the school, the students are to be sorted into one of four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Of course, every house is unique and different, but the house that your son is sorted into will most definitely suit your son, Tom.

There are many rules and restrictions that all students must follow that the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, put into action. If you break any rules, your House will lose House Points. However, you can gain them by answering correct questions and therefore awarding your house a few points.

The types of classes that your son will take are: Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Flying…'

'Flying?' Anne interrupted, 'My son is going to learn how to fly as well?'

'Yes,' said Minerva, looking at Anne seriously, 'on a broomstick.'

'On a broomstick!' said Anne, laughing. 'So, he's going to learn how to fly on a

broom, like witches! And go to different 'Houses'. And have to follow rules put up by a magical man?'

'His name is Albus Dumbledore, and he is...,' she stopped to glance at me, 'was one of the most powerful wizards of his time, so I would think that…'

'You should respect him.'

The room fell silent, for the second time that day. The woman named Minerva and Anne looked at me in shock. Then, Anne laughed for a second time.

'Oh, I understand now. Of course! You two organized this together! No, you three! Thought it would be fun to go to work, come up with this little plan, hire one of your fellow workers to be this 'witch', and send me this letter ahead of time! Really sweet, we all had a laugh.'

'Mum, we never did that!' shouted Tom.

'Anne, Tom's right, we never hired anyone, and we're not tricking you.'

'Do you expect me to believe that,' she said to us.

'I expect you to believe the truth, right before your eyes,' said Tom, pointing to the woman, sitting quietly in the chair.

But, she wasn't there.

'Where is she?' I asked, looking around. We were all about to search when with a pop, she appeared between us.

'Oh My God!' shrieked Anne, as Tom jumped.

'What did you do?' I asked, 'Who are you?'

'I am a witch, and I am asking you to allow your son to go to Hogwarts. This is an opportunity that can not be missed. Please, do not let him be blinded to the truth.'

'What truth?' asked Anne, aggressively – obviously regaining her cool.

'That one-quarter of the English population and the world either are wizard or witches or know about the magical world.'

'Magical world?' asked Anne, 'what world is that, one where people pop in and out of nowhere? And why is it that our son got picked, and I didn't? Did you?'

'Some wizards are picked because, they have magic in their blood,' suspiciously, she glanced at me, 'others are simply unique.'

'So, our son is unique? Is that it,' the woman was silent, 'That's why he's in this popping magic world!'

'There are many types of magic,' she said, taking a seat and describing many classes.

_But, I was having that feeling again. I was remembering something, something was very familiar…I had that feeling when I told Anne that she should respect Albus Dumbledore – someone had told me that._

_But who? This woman? No. I don't know._

'And do you agree with this?' Anne asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I looked at the woman, 'It's true, Anne. Maybe we should let Tom… do it.'

'True, true! Sorry, but popping in and out of nowhere is not sufficient proof.'

'Is this?' asked Minerva, handing Anne a mirror.

Slowly and cautiously, Anne held the mirror, 'Look in it,' Minerva said.

As Anne looked in the mirror, a voice which seemed to be coming out of the mirror itself said, 'Why, aren't you pretty my dear!'

With a gasp, the mirror dropped from Anne's hands, and a scream broke out from the mirror.

In a quick flash, the older woman had a piece of wood out, and she shouted 'Alohamora!'

And the mirror floated, as light as a feather…

_A feather… floating… and a girl._

_She was proud of herself; she had bushy hair._

'It's true,' whispered Anne, sinking into a chair.

Tom sat as well, muttering, 'I told you.'

'Is he going?' asked Minerva.

'I don't know,' said Anne and I simultaneously.

At least we agreed on something, I thought happily.

The woman told us that school started on September first, so we had ten days to make our decision, though we should decide early.

As I walked the woman to the door, she turned around suddenly. 'Magic can and has affected many people. I ask you to be open-minded and make your decision wisely. If you do change your mind, simply go to the old café on Belington Road, and ask how to get to Diagon Alley. There you will find everything you will need for your son. By then, I will know and will give you the tickets to the train that leaves with all the other Hogwarts students on September the first.

Remember, Mr. Potter,' suddenly, her words were directed to me, 'You will get several surprises. I ask of you to be calm and wise with all people.'

'I understand, ' I said.

She looked at me slowly, and after a few seconds wait, said quietly, 'Do you remember?'

I looked into those eyes, at the… familiar… face, and wondered, Do I?

'I don't know.'

When she left, Anne asked me what to do… what the woman had meant.

And I answered the same thing.

'I don't know.'

**Authors Note**: Ok, I know what I'm going to do with this story. And, it won't be long!


	3. Poison

Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K.Rowling's, and I'm pretty happy I don't. Cause, if I did, then the end of the story wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?****

**Ch3: Poison**

'Diagon Alley?'

'That is what she said.'

'Dad, do I get a wand?'

'We should get off about here.'

'Can it be blue?'

'Are you sure about this, Harry?'

I looked around the platform of the underground metro. This was our stop.

'Let's go.'

Walking down a few blocks, I saw a dusty old shop. This was it. This dusty old, tired piece of a building.

Let's just do it.

I entered the building and looked around, surprised to find a busy type of a café. I walked up to the bartender. 'Um, hello sir. Do you happen to know how to get to Diagon Alley?'

Scrubbing at a dirty bottle, he pointed around the back of the store, 'There, there,' he said, not looking up.

We walked to the back of the café and stopped at a brick wall. Anne glanced at me, _now what,_ she seemed to be thinking.

I looked around to call someone's help, when a waitress caught my eye.

She was beautiful.

Dark lashes lifting, she held my eye sight and slowly strolled towards me. She was completely wearing black: skirt, leggings, shoes, hood, and cloak.

And, it made her even more attractive.

Abruptly, she was standing in front of me. 'Hello, sir,' she said, her voice silky, 'Do you _need_ anything?'

For a moment, I was speechless. Then, Anne answered, 'Yes, actually. Do you know how to get to Dragon Alley?'

'Dragon?' she asked confused, curling some of her black hair around her ear.

'Diagon,' I interrupted, regaining the power of speech, 'She means Diagon Alley.'

'Oh,' her black eyes turned towards me, again. 'You must be muggles.'

'Ya,' I said, 'Non-magic folk, right?'

'Yes,' she whispered, then loudly, 'What are your names?'

'Actually,' Anne interrupted, her features stiff.

'I'm Harry. Harry Potter. This is my wife, Anne Potter, and my son, Tom,' I finished. But, after I had said my name, a familiar gleam spread through her eyes. It was familiar… and dangerous.

Then she laughed, 'Hello, Mr. Harry Potter.'

Her laugh was encapturing; it was _poisonous_.

'This is the way,' she opened a door and lead us inside. 'Tom,' she said, 'When you get a wand,' all you have to do is tap these bricks, like this,' she demonstrated. Suddenly, the wall opened into a wide street full of people – witches and wizards.

Tom shouted in awe, then sprinted out towards the first shop. Anne quickly followed. About to do so myself, I was hindered by a hand on my shoulder.

I turned around. The waitress was still there. 'This is Diagon Alley. You'll find most things that you need, there.' I knew I should leave, how else would I find Anne and Tom? But, there was something about this woman. Some force that kept me from leaving.

'But,' she put her hand on my shoulder again, and abruptly the wall closed up, leaving the two of us in darkness, 'If you need anything, just,' she moved a little closer and licked her red lips, which contrasted against the white of her skin. 'Ask, for,' she whispered in my ear, 'Belle.'

'Now get back to Anne, Harry,' she opened the wall again, _'Women don't like to be kept waiting_.'

With one last look, I sauntered out. And whistled.

For the next minute or so, all I could think about was… Belle.

A voice brought me back to reality.

'Don't touch that bat, Tom. It looks like it's ready to bite!' Anne cried.

'Come on, Tom,' I said, 'Let's go get your things.' I took the list from his hands and started at the top, 'Ok, you need a whole lot of books.'

'Is there a library around here?' Anne asked, 'It would be good to get them all from the same place.'

'Ya, let's ask this guy here,' I pointed to the man selling the birds and bats. 'Exuse me, sir,' he glanced up, then really looked and stood up.

As he gaped before me, I asked him, 'Is there a library around here.'

He brought his hand up and pointed at me, as though he wanted to point me out to everyone. 'Is there something wrong, sir?' I asked, completely confused.

'Harry Potter.'

'Harry, how does he know your name?'

'You're Harry Potter.'

'Dad, he's the second guy in a week.'

'Merlin, welcome back!' the man grabbed my hand and kissed it. Pulling my hand back quickly, I backed away.

'Who are you?'

'I'm just a Blather, you don't know me, Mr. Potter.'

'Then how do you know me,' I asked, alarmed.

'Everyone knows you,' he replied, his face sporting a merry grin. 'Everybody knows Harry Potter!'

If I was alarmed before, I was now in a stage of panic.

Everybody knew **me**?

God, I have to do something.

Abruptly, a man grabbed my forearm and called out to my family, 'Follow me.' It was the blonde man.

'Where are you taking us?' Anne asked, warily.

'To your _library_,' said the man, voice heavy with familiar sarcasm. So familiar. He swiftly pushed open the door of a tall building and made us follow him past five bookshelves, until we were alone. Looking towards Anne and Tom, 'You'll find most of your books down that row,' he pointed to one near ours.

Anne stayed put, 'Harry,' she called for me to follow her.

'Actually,' the man said strictly, 'I have to talk with him.'

'Harry, do you know this man?' Anne eyed me, confused.

I looked into the man's gray eyes. I knew him, but I didn't. And that feeling was just so frustrating. I had to find out who he was. 'Yes, he's… an old friend. It won't be long, we'll just talk a bit.'

'Is he… like us, you know a muggle, or… like them,' she asked.

'No, don't worry, he's like us,' I said to soothe her, as I turned to the man.

Who was now fuming.

'Actually, Potter' he said, dragging me deeper in the library, 'I'm like them, but better.'

'You know my name?' I asked, 'Wait, how did that man know it? No, just answer this: Who are you?'

The man raised one of his eyebrows curiously at me, 'You don't know, do you?'

'Know what?' I growled. This was really pissing me off. I did know this man, I just… didn't remember him.

'Ooh, still very touchy, are we Potter?'

'Touchy? Actually, I'm not. Now, I think I should get back to my family.'

'And, as impatient as ever.'

'What the hell do you have against me?' I asked, incensed by this man's all knowing nature.

'I never had anything against you,' the man whispered, his voice dangerous, 'It

was you who decided to have everything against me from the start.'

'I don't have anything against you,' I said, startled.

The man stared at me, 'You can't just say that, Pot-'

'I can say whatever the hell I want!' I shouted. Abruptly, the book shelf around us wobbled, as though to fall. I held my breath and it steadied.

'You're just the same,' he said, sitting down into an arm chair.

'Same as what? Look, either you start making sense, or I start walking away.'

'Don't pretend like you know nothing, Potter.' The man seemed truly angry. 'It can't be true, are you that weak to not overcome the spell, or just too blind?'

'Spell?' Had someone done something to me?

'Fine then, let's see if you're real or not, Potter. How will you react to this:' the man paused, as though ready for victory, 'Granger's the filthiest Mudblood that ever lived.'

'Ronald Weasley deserved to die.'

'Who?' I gave the man a look that told him that I surely thought he was crazy. 'Alright, I'll just be walking away now. You can talk about mud and Weasels. Bye.'

'No,' the man got up, 'You can't leave yet.'

'NO,' I said firmly, 'I think I'll go.'

'But,' the man said, voice low, 'aren't you forgetting something?'

'And what is that,' I said, turning around.

'Your wand.'

'I don't own one,' I said, eyeing the wood in his hand. But, there was something about that wood. It… was familiar.

It was mine.

'Give it to me,' I ordered, suddenly in deep need of it.

As I reached for it, the man's nimble finger's tossed it up in the air.

And it reflected a bit of gold light.

_Like a golden ball, with small wings… I have to catch it, quickly._

In the break of a moment, my fingers had closed around the hard wood.

It was as if I was a sailor that had been drowning in the sea, and had finally reached the land.

I could breathe.

I gasped at the feeling of energy, my power running through me.

_My memories._

Everything that I had forgotten, was suddenly rushing back to me. All my thoughts and dreams, hurts… enemies.

_Everything._

Slowly looking up, I glared at Malfoy and enunciated every letter I spoke.

"**I. HATE. YOU."**

'I know, Potter.'

'Thanks a lot, Malfoy,' I said, 'Congratulations. You just made my life a living hell.'

'Actually – '

'**NO**. Just. Shut. Up. Ya, don't talk at all,' I seethed. 'Keep that big flabbergasting mouth shut! How could you! Why did you make me remember? Take this disgusting wand, take the memories, take it all back. I don't want any of it.'

'How about your life?'

My life?

'That's right,' he smirked, 'forgetting everything doesn't mean your safe now. A few Death Eaters we couldn't catch,' he paused,' are still looking for you.'

'You couldn't catch a few Death Eaters?' I mocked, still angry.

'Well, you sure weren't there to help, were you?' Malfoy growled, 'Just **forgot** everything. I can barely believe that Dumbledore even allowed it.'

'I deserved – '

'What did you deserve, Harry Potter?' he threw at me. 'You think that by defeating the Dark Lord just because you were the only one who _could_ do it, makes you the best. Makes you deserve _everything _and _anything!_

You couldn't have done half of what you did, without us. WE trained you, threw our sleep and energy away for you. I,' he reminded me, 'threw away my family, my traditions, my fiancé for you. You are the reason she died.

Do you think that I wanted to remember everything?' he asked sarcastically, ' Think I didn't want a spell thrown at me that would make me forget everything? Oh, I wanted it more than anything.

But, it never happened, did it? Wait, you wouldn't know,' he glared angrily at me, 'You were too busy getting Starbucks everyday, enjoying your simple business career.'

'How did you know that?' I asked.

'That's not all I know, Potter. I know every last detail about you. After I met you on that little incident on the block, I went straight away to Dumbledore.

And, I got assigned to do this job. To tell you what's been happening while you were… Oblivious. He made me find out everything about you, because I'll be the one protecting you these days.'

'From who?'

'Haven't you been listening, Potter? From the Death Eaters. Do you understand that, Potter?'

I stayed quite, just letting everything sink in.

'Potter?'

'I thought we were over the last name thing,' I looked up at the puzzled man. 'In the last battle, before I … you know, destroyed him, we decided to call each other by our first names,' I paused, 'I'm sorry, Draco.'

'It's alright…Harry,' he paused, fiddling with the chain around his neck,' You know, it wasn't really your fault that she died.'

'It's all my fault, Draco,' I said,

'And now it's time to fix it.'

**Authors Note**: Yep, it's different than how you thought, right? Remember, please give me a review. It only takes a minute!


	4. The Cemetery

Disclaimer: I own nothing of J.K.Rowling's, and I'm pretty happy I don't. Cause, if I did, then the end of the story wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?****

**Ch. 4: The Cemetery**

The cold wind that shuffled my hair fit the scene of the graveyard, almost ominously. White tombstones matched the clouded sky. My eyes rested on the graves, again. I took a deep breath. I could barely feel my heart beating; for some reason, I was so tired. Even though, it was morning.

I looked to my right. Draco was kneeling on the ground, before a grave with white and purple flowers upon it. I wondered if he still cared about the quality of his black robes. Like at Hogwarts, they were still the most expensive you could find, but now, he didn't seem to mind to touch the mud before the tomb stone.

Walking quietly behind him, I read the writing engraved in the marble:

1990-2007

Pansy Parkinson

Only daughter of Sir William Parkinson and Madam Orchid Mince

"A lovéd fiancé"

For some absurd reason, I smiled at that. Back at Hogwarts, he used to always call her that, his 'lovéd fiancé'.

He loved her so much.

Pain gripping my heart, I walked back to stand before the gravestones of those most important to me.

Sirius, gone so early. He was taken first.

Hermione, I thought, Ron… _Together in Death_. Why? Why not before that? _Why?_ Upset, I remembered the scene:

_'You will not get him!' shouted Hermione, wand raised. She stood stiffly in the large garden of the Malfoy Manor, not in it's best state. Several statues were destroyed and debris scattered the once stunning garden. Standing upon the platform surrounded by various statues, she blocked my fallen figure from Voldemort – who drained me in a spell._

_A hiss accompanied the blaze of red eyes, 'Stand aside you silly girl.' I saw him get closer to the platform, before smoke blocked my vision._

_'Never!' she screamed, her voice echoed dully through my aching head, 'You can't get through to him, not on my life!'_

_'Oh,' the hiss sounded again, very confident, as an ancient statue was blasted out of the way. I felt dust shift around my face._

_'It's much easier than you think, Mudblood.'_

_'No, it's not, Tom!' _Hermione, true to character, still tried to reason with him

_'It isn't! Because we love him,_' she had still tried to make him see reason,

_'Because I love him!' _she tried to make him see reason, even…at the end of all things

_'And you will never take him from us!'_

I fell to my knees. The responsibility was just too much to bear.

_'Hermione!' Ron had shouted as she fell, struck by the one killing curse._

_'Wake up!' he had cried, 'Wake up, Hermione… Hermione, I love you.'_

Maybe, it was a blessing, in an odd sort of way. To have those three truthful words, be the last you'd ever say.

And Remus. Oh, Remus. He didn't get all the action of the field. No, he died, so slowly, just after the war. If Voldemort was still alive, I would have murdered him for it.

_'Don't worry, Harry…' he coughed, lying on sheets of white. 'Why don't you go and enjoy the celebrations?' I heard a shout of joy and a bottle of Champaign exploding. 'I'll be fine.'_

_'No, you're not fine, Remus,' I told him. 'Your face has paled, more than before. That curse- it's killing you.'_

_He lay silent, eyes closed. _

_'You're going to die. You're going to die like the rest of them. Just like them, he took them from me. And now, he's taken you.'_

_'The medics have told me-'_

_'Don't lie, Remus! All the marauders are gone now, aren't they? They've all been wasted. Killed.'_

_'To die, Harry,' he said, finally admitting it. 'Is not the end. Souls will go to another place… they will **live** on.'_

_'What are you talking about, Remus?' I said, much faster than his slow speech. 'What-'_

_'Harry,' he interrupted, 'Lily would have been so proud. Her little Harry,' his eyes unfocused, seeing another world. 'Her little Hero…'_

_'I don't want to be a Hero, Remus,' I whispered, feeling his hand go limp. 'I don't want to be Harry. I don't want to be.'_

That was when I made my decision, I remembered. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. 'Almost done?' came the question.

'Ya, I'm done,' I got up, wiping a hand across my eyes. We walked sullenly to my car, parked in the lot. Getting inside, I waited until Draco had gotten into the passenger seat. Putting my key in the engine, I stopped.

'Take your time,' Draco said, reminding me of his old sarcastic self. He leaned the passenger seat back.

Yes, I thought, I'll do just that.

Throwing open the door, I stomped over to the graveyard again. I walked past many gravestones. Gryffindor students, other classmates, teachers. I stormed past the Death Eaters, even they were buried – thanks to Dumbledore.

Finally, I stopped, before one huge stone – which almost seemed to smirk down at the occupant of the grave, he who tried to defy death.

Voldemort.

Raising my wand, I took no caution of muggles, as I threw curse after curse at the grave. Every flash of light, which hit the stone, seemed to stop and dissolve. No, I thought in a fanatical craze, _I have to kill you! I have to hurt you!_

Minutes later, as I tried my hundredth- _billionth_- spell, I heard a voice behind me.

'Don't try anymore,' came Draco's calm voice. I turned to face him, exhaustion filling my features.

'NO, I have to do this. I hate him! What he's done, it's just-'

I stopped as Draco cupped my face in his hands, 'Don't try anymore, Harry,' he repeated, as though talking to a child. He paused before adding,

'I've already tried them all.'

As though a dam had broken, my tears could no longer stay put. Breathing ragged, I dropped my wand to the dirt and took comfort in crying in the cemetery.

I cried all the way home – even through the hilarious incident of Draco's skill in driving.

Stopping with a jolt in front of our apartment building, Draco got out of the car, quickly. He opened my door and started pulling at me to get out.

'Come on, Harry,' he said, through my sobs. 'Come on, get out. Get up.'

Refusing to meet his gaze, I looked at the blurry surroundings of the car. My glasses had been discarded of long ago.

'I'm not dragging you up those horrid stairs into your apartment.'

_They died. They're dead._

'Are you listening to me?'

_They died thirteen years ago. They died._

'I'm warning you, Potter. Get up.'

_They're not coming back. They're dead._

'That's it, blast the muggles, I'm using magic.'

Somehow, I made it up to my apartment. Somehow, I crawled into bed. And, somehow, I managed to sleep – just sleep.

When I awoke, the sun was still up and the weather much warmer. I shuffled around looking for my glasses. Picking up my wand, I stuck it in my back pocket.

'Anne!' I called, opening our bedroom door. 'Anne, my glasses –'

Suddenly, I stopped. Someone was in my apartment.

That someone was behind me.

In a quick move, I turned and grabbed at the person. Locking him under my arm, I slid my wand to his neck.

'Merlin, Potter! It's me,' cried the man.

'Oh, you, Draco,' I said, easing my grip.

'Still got it in you, have you,' he asked, 'So do I.'

Caught by surprise, my legs left the floor and I completed a full flip before landing on my stomach.

As I tried to regain my breath, I felt Draco move towards the couch. Getting up, I managed to ask, 'How long have you been here?'

'Not long,' he replied, playing with the TV controller. 'As long as you've been asleep.' The blonde looked down at his gold watch, 'About four hours.'

'Oh,' I said, sitting down on the couch closer to the television.

As he continued to play with the buttons on the controller, I heard him mutter, 'How do these blasted things work?'

'Simple, here,' I took the controller from him. 'Up, and you change the channel to the one higher, and down, and you change it back. Got it?'

'Yes,' he said, snatching it back, 'I knew that,' turning the tables he continued, 'do you remember everything?'

Everything… yes.

'Ya.'

Glancing at me briefly, he continued, 'Good.'

'Then,' he said, 'you'll be ready to tell your wife and child who you really are?'

'Ya.'

'And who I am?'

Ya, I thought, finding no need to verbally respond.

'And what you did?'

Ya.

'And what you're going to do?'

Ya – NO.

'Wait, what am I going to do?'

Looking at Draco, I could practically hear his thoughts, _pathetic._

'You'll tell her that you'll have to leave for a while…'

'No, I can't do that.'

Ditching the television set, Draco turned to look at me, 'Harry, you've been a good boy so far. Agreeing with everything I've told you. Why the sudden change of heart?'

'Because,' I said, standing, 'Anne and I've worked to get this house; we have a child. We have responsibility. And, she's been great lately letting Tom go to Hogwarts. I can't leave her now. Not only that, I have a job.'

Changing topics, Draco asked, 'Why'd you name him Tom?'

'I forgot a lot of things, Draco,' I said, sitting back down, 'But I could never forget Tom Marvolo Riddle. Never.' Looking away, I continued, 'So I remembered that name, I thought it was a bit of my past, and so I named him Tom, my only future.'

'Now,' Draco interrupted, completely indifferent to Harry's speech, 'Tom's going to Hogwarts. Tom will find out about everything that happened to you in your past. Tom,' he stressed, 'will have a **new** opinion about his dad, who hid from _everything_.'

Harry felt his temper rising, as he remembered the old Slytherin.

'Tom will meet Slytherins, who will taunt him. Tom might be lucky enough to meet my son, Harry, who will know more than just what's written in the history books,' Draco raised his eyebrows, 'much more.'

'Malfoy,' Harry said, a bit past angry, 'This isn't one of your old games. I can't just put my family on hold. You don't seem to understand-'

'No, Potter – you don't! This is no game. This is **real** life, with **real** people who **really** want to kill you. And, they'll do whatever it takes. Your family is in danger, Potter, just like how your friends were. And you're going to make the same mistake, if you don't listen to me!'

Silence left the two men standing and glaring dangerously at one another.

Then Malfoy looked away. 'Think about it, Potter.' He grabbed his coat and turned away towards the door. 'Dumbledore will know about this.'

As the door slammed, Harry sat back down on the couch, his head in his hands. As his wife came home, he decided he was going to tell her everything. He was going to tell his family absolutely everything – then he wouldn't have anything to hide, no heartache for later.

Well, he'd give Tom a PG version.

Then, suddenly remembering how he would beg for information in his fifth year, Harry brought the rating up.

To a PG 13.

**Author's Note: ** Hi everybody! Ok, real sorry it took so long. Now, don't be too mad, but I have to say that I'm traveling over the summer… to my beach house, where I can't bring a computer or update… Really sorry.

But, on the bright side, you can read my other story, _Gray Eyes, Gray Heart_. I promise it's good – well, I like it. And I just updated two new chapters.

Well, love and hope your well,

Magicalme

Oh, just in case you don't know, to know when I'll next update this story without checking all the time. You can just add me to your Author's Alert list while you review. Therefore, you will get an email when I update- oh, and you have to be logged in.


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